Scripture Verse

There before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. Revelation 7:9

Introduction

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Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872–1958)

Words: Charles Wes­ley, Fun­er­al Hymns 1759.

Music: For­est Green Eng­lish tune. Ar­ranged by Ralph Vaugh­an Will­iams, 1906 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

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Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Anecdote

Charles Wes­ley died (1788) three years be­fore his bro­ther. It is said that some time af­ter his death John Wes­ley, then ven­er­able with age and al­most to the mar­gin come, as­cend­ed the pul­pit on one oc­ca­sion in the Foun­dry Church, and af­ter read­ing the les­son, he turned to the hymn se­lect­ed as if to read it af­ter his us­ual man­ner; but ins­tead he bur­ied his face in his hands and stood there in that solemn and im­pres­sive at­ti­tude for sev­er­al min­utes.

Every eye was fixed up­on him, and ev­ery ear list­ened as he then op­ened the hymn book and read in a most im­press­ive man­ner his bro­ther’s hymn:

Come, let us join our friends above,
That have obtained the prize.

The au­di­ence was deep­ly moved and well knew where his thoughts were.

Nutter, p. 319

Lyrics

Come, let us join our friends above,
That have ob­tained the prize,
And on the ea­gle wings of love
To joys ce­les­tial rise.
Let saints on earth unite to sing
With those to glo­ry gone,
For all the ser­vants of our king
In earth and Heav’n are one.

One fa­mi­ly we dwell in Him,
One church above, be­neath,
Though now di­vid­ed by the stream,
The nar­row stream of death;
One ar­my of the liv­ing God,
At His comm­and we bow;
Part of His host have crossed the flood,
And part are cross­ing now.

Ten thou­sand to their end­less home
This so­lemn mo­ment fly,
And we are to the mar­gin come,
And we ex­pect to die.
His mi­li­tant em­bo­died host,
With wish­ful looks we stand,
And long to see that hap­py coast,
And reach the heav’n­ly land.

Our old com­pan­ions in dis­tress
We haste again to see,
And ea­ger long for our re­lease,
And full fe­li­ci­ty:
E’en now by faith we join our hands
With those that went be­fore;
And greet the blood be­sprin­kled bands
On the eter­nal shore.

Our spir­its too shall quick­ly join,
Like theirs with glo­ry crowned,
And shout to see our cap­tain’s sign,
To hear His trum­pet sound.
O that we now might grasp our guide!
O that the word were giv’n!
Come, Lord of Hosts, the waves di­vide,
And land us all in Heav’n.